Snake Eyes
by AnotherTakenUsername
Summary: Artyom tries to find out if humanity survived beyond the Metro, and ends up in a very unusual situation. Just a brief one-shot for a Reddit challenge.


The latest trip to the surface hadn't gone as Artyom had planned.

He had hoped that, with Anna's help, they might finally catch some signal through the clouds of radiation covering the ruins of Moscow. They had trekked through Hansa's off-limits zone, gone past packs of Watchmen and circling demons, all for the chance of finally figuring out if someone else in the world had survived.

Despite their efforts, the radio had remained silent. Only static filled the airwaves, echoed by the winds howling through the empty buildings and the ticking of their Geiger counters.

Hours of waiting, of hoping, and all for nothing.

And yet, when they had finally given up, heading back to the nearest station, something bizarre happened.

"_A train…a damned train on the surface!"_

It shouldn't have been possible. The few remaining vehicles on the surface he'd heard about were scavenged trucks and cars, heavily modified and covered with armor. Even the Order only had a handful of them, and they could only travel so far as the roads were still standing. He'd never heard of anybody using more than armored subway trains before, even among Hansa and the Red Line.

Despite that, a train had appeared beneath the bridge they were hiding on, racing down the rails at full speed. Thick metal plating covered the passenger cars, and large spotlights illuminated the nearby debris and the small flock of demons chasing them.

They'd tried to follow it, to see who it belonged to. They even believed the soldiers when they said to get into the truck, not even questioning if they were really from the Order!

And now they were captured, guarded by Hansa soldiers as they sped off towards who knows where.

_Uuugh…my head…_

The rifle butt Artyom had received to the face certainly hadn't helped in that regard. His skull was throbbing, and he could have sworn he felt blood dripping down his forehead.

Still, he couldn't do anything about it. Their weapons, their radios…even their gas masks had been taken from them. All they could do was wait and see what Hansa had planned for them.

_They won't kill us…not unless they want the whole Order going after them…_

As his vision cleared, he saw several people sitting nearby. One of them was Anna, yelling at the guards through the metal grate dividing the truck in half. She seemed to be okay, even if she was clearly shaken and frustrated by what the guards were doing.

The other two didn't look like soldiers, or even stalkers. One appeared to be a young man, in his early thirties at the youngest, bundled in dark winter gear. The other was an elderly woman, likely in her sixties, dressed in a blue coat and a woolen cap.

_What are these people doing up here?_ Artyom wondered. _Why would they try to enter an off-limits zone?_

He groaned, trying to sit up. The shaking of the vehicle was already throwing off his balance, and the noise of the others talking was giving him a headache. He tried to keep calm and prepared, if only for Anna's sake, when he caught what the strangers were saying.

"What's going on in this Moscow of yours, anyways?" The old woman asked, her voice filled with annoyance.

_What?_ Artyom thought. _What do they mean by that?_

"'Of yours?' You're putting this like you're not from here…" Anna asked, sounding uncertain.

"We aren't. Our village is about two hundred kilometers from here…" The young man responded.

"What village? You're NOT FROM MOSCOW?!" Anna shouted, echoing Artyom's own thoughts.

_It wasn't for nothing? People outside of the Metro actually did survive! And they're making their way to Moscow!_

His thoughts, already muddy from the head trauma he'd received, blurred further at the implications. After twenty years of hearing that they were alone, of fearing the dangers the surface constantly brought into the tunnels, proof had finally arrived! There was a place outside of Moscow where people had survived!

Anna and the others continued to talk, but what they said barely registered with Artyom. They needed to get back underground, as quickly as possible! This news could change everything! And if that train had anything to do with their arrival, then-

The truck's door suddenly opened, letting the frigid air flow into the vehicle. Looking outside, Artyom was surprised to see that the vehicle had already stopped. They hadn't even made it halfway to the nearest station yet, so-

"The hag and the boy – out!" One of the Hansa soldiers shouted, glaring at the two strangers.

…_oh, no. They're going to…_

Just as he feared, as the two were led out the back, they were pushed to the side of the road, overseen by yet another menacing Hansa rifleman. A gap in the ruins revealed the edge of a massive ditch, dropping down at least fifteen feet below.

It was hardly subtle, but executions rarely needed to be.

Just as the Hansa soldier lifted his rifle, Artyom dove out of the vehicle, grappling the man's helmet. Both of them spun around wildly, trying to throw the other into the dirt and take control of the situation.

_I just need to buy time for them to run!_ Artyom thought, gripping tightly. _Just a little-_

"Gera, get him!"

A sharp, searing pain engulfed Artyom's arm as a large dog appeared, tearing into his wrist. He tried to throw off the dog, kicking and beating it until it was knocked back.

It was all the time the riflemen needed to raise their rifles.

He heard Anna's panicked screaming from the back of the truck, the cocking of the Hansa soldiers' rifles, the bullets being fired-

* * *

Artyom opened his eyes, gasping in shock. His eyes flashed around, while his mind desperately tried to catch up with what happened.

_They…they shot me! And then…and then…_

_I think they shot the outsiders, but…I don't…_

…_is that a fan above me?_

Above Artyom's head, a wooden fan spun lazily from a cracked drywall ceiling, offering only the hint of a cool breeze. The walls around him were in a similar condition, although one had a poster in a strange, unfamiliar language.

You're awake! How about that? A strange voice intoned from Artyom's left, speaking in an unfamiliar accent.

_What…what was that…_

He tried to get up, shifting and moving on the unfamiliar surface he was lying on, but his head was still spinning with pain and exhaustion. Through his uneven eyesight, he thought he could make out a figure sitting nearby, watching him intently.

Whoa, whoa! Easy there, easy! The man said, reaching out towards him. Artyom tensed up, thinking the figure was going to try and grab him, but all he did was reach out cautiously. It almost seemed like the man was trying to keep him steady as he got up.

As Artyom sat up, his eyesight finally cleared up enough to make out his surroundings. An elderly, balding man sat directly in front of him, looking at him cautiously, but seemingly calm. He was wearing some sort of dark coverall, with a red bandanna covering his neck. The rest of the walls were in a similar state of disrepair, although it wasn't in a terrible shape compared to most Metro stations.

However, there were details that didn't make much sense. There were more posters hung on the walls, labelled with unfamiliar letters in massive, bold printing. The floors were completely wooden, instead of the concrete floors of most Metro stations. Strangest of all, there was even a window on one of the nearby walls, letting in shafts of light through the numerous boards covering it.

_Are we…are we still on the surface? But where could this be?_

Let's see what the damage is. The strange man said, leaning back in his chair. Can you tell me your name?

"…What?" Artyom croaked out, feeling his throat ache from dryness. "Are you saying something?"

Hm. That's not good. The man said, frowning slightly. Can you say that again? I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that.

"I…I don't understand." Artyom said, feeling panic start to build up inside him. The only thing he could think of that sounded similar to what the man was saying was the rare phrase that Sam occasionally said, but…

But Sam was supposedly one of the few people in the Metro who still knew how to _read_ in English, let alone speak the odd phrase of it.

"Where am I?" Artyom asked, fumbling out of bed and nearly falling onto the floor. The strange man quickly moved forwards, grabbing onto his shoulders and keeping him from moving too far.

Easy, easy! It's probably just some aftereffects of the surgery. Looks like my needlework might not have been as precise as I'd hoped. The man chuckled, lifting Artyom back into the bed. It's not easy removing a bullet from a man's brain, and…well, you were hardly in the best shape.

The old man nodded to himself, helping Artyom sit down before moving off towards the back of the room. He seemed to be fiddling with some sort of machine off in one of the corners, although it was impossible to tell what it was supposed to be.

_Is this some sort of infirmary? Did they drag me out from the streets somehow? But I don't see any gas masks, or weapons…_

Indeed, for a surface outpost, there was surprisingly little in the way of ammunition or weaponry lying around. He could see what looked like medical supplies on nearby shelves, but there weren't any spare magazines or filters anywhere. This place looked like it would be a bloodbath if any mutants attacked, but the strange man seemed completely at ease.

Artyom leaned closer towards the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was outside the building. All he needed was a vague idea of where he was, and he could figure out how to get to the nearest station.

What he saw left him completely speechless.

The entire world looked like a desert, stretching out for miles from whatever building he was in. The sun shone brightly overhead, illuminating a small town a few hundred meters from the window. He could see a handful of figures wandering around below, moving between buildings and talking to each other, as if it was completely normal.

Are you okay there? You look like you've seen a ghost! The strange man said from behind Artyom, chuckling again.

Artyom couldn't bring himself to respond. Even if he understood what the man was saying, the view from outside left him hopelessly confused. He had just been in Moscow! The entire landscape should be filled with snow and ruins…right?

…_This isn't Moscow, is it?_ Artyom thought, as his panicked mind quickly lost consciousness once more.


End file.
